


My Idiot

by Somewhere_Only_Larry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Amnesia, Car Accident, Cocky Harry, Graffiti Zayn, M/M, Mechanic Liam, Mechanic Niall, No Smut, Shy Louis, Slightly graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-13 00:48:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4501377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somewhere_Only_Larry/pseuds/Somewhere_Only_Larry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A misunderstanding between Louis and Harry leads to Louis' memory loss. Harry will do everything in his power to retrieve it. </p><p>Or </p><p>The cliché in which Harry feels an immense amount of guilt, Niall owns a mechanic shop, Liam works there shirtless, Zayn does graffiti art at a skate park and they all try to help little confused Louis be a little bit less confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Idiot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Browneyedbeauty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Browneyedbeauty/gifts).



> It's my very first work here and I'm very excited. Please leave some constructive criticism even though I'm fragile and easily bruised. I love being able to improve.
> 
> Browneyedbeauty I hope you like what I did with your prompt. I also hope you don't mind I took some liberties. ;D
> 
> Many thanks to my awesome beta Nicole. Any mistakes are my own.

Harry sits next to the hospital bed staring at his hands blankly and failing to comprehend everything that happened before the accident. The blaring sirens ring in his ears and the ambulance lights flash in his eyes. He sees Louis' body still and completely motionless. Remembers how his lover’s head fit perfectly into what used to be flat clear glass. He remembers the blood trickling from a gash on Louis' brow, and most of all he remembers that it was all hisfault. His fault that Louis was lying in an ugly pale-sheeted bed, attached to a heart monitor, and comatose.

He stares blankly at his fingers, fumbling with his worthless car keys, twirling them and moving them aimlessly through his fingers. Absentmindedly, he begins to let them slip onto his lap, continuing to fidget with them on his thighs as he stresses and worries over his love.

Feeling a new wave of tears forming behind his eyes, he thinks how ridiculous it is that this happened to them. He probably should've run out of tears by now. Ten days and he still can't go twenty minutes without bawling. It should've been Harry. The tears flowed uncontrollably and his sobs echo through the silent room, much like the previous times. The floor is blurred by his soon-to-be-shed tears beginning to trickle out. 

"Don't cry, love," he hears a voice he could recognize from the opposite side of an arena. He's almost too afraid to look up in case he has in fact lost it and started hearing voices, but then his moment of hesitation is broken by a soft, very flirty, "Someone as pretty as you shouldn't cry," and he looks up to meet the shimmering baby blues he fell in love with five years ago.

Louis was awake - awake and staring into Harry's eyes. Harry can't breathe, shocked in more-than-pleasant surprise. There they are, eyes locked finally after what feels like years, but were only days. He takes in all of Louis: the hardly healed gash on his brow, the bruises on his cheek from the impact with the car window, and the way he can look good in anything(ADD: ,)including a hospital robe that doesn't even cover all of his back side.

Harry shouldn't be blamed for what he did next. He had no clue when or if he was ever going to see those eyes he's so fond of. He had been praying to whatever divine providence there might be that they would allow him to have Louis again. Every time he saw Louis' static body, his heart broke. That coupled with the guilt of what he last said to Louis tore him apart, and he can't help but think he could've stopped it, the whole thing. 

So Harry can’t be blamed when he kisses Louis. He leans up and forward to meet Louis’ lips with his own. He kisses him and throws every single worry, every hollow feeling he had into it, making it messy and sloppy but passionate and everything he's missed throughout these days. He puts everything he has into the kiss, but there's something wrong. Louis isn't kissing back. Harry is about to pull back to ask him what's wrong, but Louis pushes Harry away with force before he could. Louis looks completely shocked and appalled, backing away from him.

"The fuck gives you the right mate?! Fucking dickhead! Who do you think you are?!," he roars, his cheeks tinted pink in fury. Harry has never dealt with Louis like this and is aghast. He's frozen and unable to react. This is unlike how he's ever seen Louis towards him.

"Lou?" he manages to mutter out. He watches as the anger slightly fades from Louis's eyes only to be replaced with confusion. Louis's words begin to register fully in Harry's mind and they don't make sense. They did have a fight and he has just woken up from a coma so that should be what's got him this way, right? He shouldn't have kissed him so soon after waking up, must be that. Louis would never talk so aggressively towards him; he knows how sensitive he is. Not even on their worst fights did Louis ever shout like this.

All those self-soothing thoughts are flushed away as soon as he here's the words that take his already weak and battered heart out of his chest, setting it on fire, "Who the hell are you?"

There is a sinking feeling in Harry's chest, a hollowness refusing to acknowledge what Louissaid because, no. No! This is all just some sick nightmare. Harry is going to wake up back in their bed with Louis by his side, sleeping soundly. They never got into the car, Louis never went into a coma. It was too much. He couldn't have said that because it would be the last straw. Yes, Harry thinks, this can only be a terrible horrible nightmare with a twisted and subtle life lesson in the end. Never get into a car angry.

"Leave, you fucking creep!" 

Harry's chest feels like its being torn open with each word. It was beginning to get harder to deny this nightmare. But surely it can’t be true that Louis, the man he's shared his deepest secrets, his passions, wildest dreams with, the man he has shared his live with the past five years, doesn't recognise him. 

A nurse conveniently came in just as he was saying that, as Louis tore him down with every spiteful word. The nurse, Mrs. Dean he now recognises, looks worried as to what is happening. Harry assumed she could hear Louis' power pipes; for such a tiny man has always had a hell of a voice.

Mrs. Dean is in her forties and has been working most of her life as a nurse. She has four children. Well, not children anymore, as they are old enough to have families of their own now. She visits her husband with Alzheimer's at the care home on her days off and she is one of the kindest people Harry’s ever met. He had learnt all this about her on a particularly bad day as she was checking Louis’ vitals and decided to speak to Harry to distract him from the real issue. Now they know each other well enough for her to trust Harry wouldn't do anything wrong to Louis, at least not on purpose.

"Nurse," they both called out desperately; Louis in relief and Harry in agony.

"Please, get this lunatic out of here!" said Louis, gesturing manically at Harry. Again, his words felt like alcohol to an open wound. 

"Mrs. Dean, we need Dr. Henson," Harry told the familiar nurse. Mrs. Dean has been Louis’nurse since he went under and knew all about his case, including the fact Harry was in the car crash with him. She also knew the deep, unfaltering love Harry had for Louis, due to the previously mentioned bad visit. She knows he can be trusted. She must...

"I'll go get her," she said softly with a sympathetic look towards Harry. "Come with me, love. I think you should wait outside in the hall in the mean time."

Harry stared at her incredulously. She can't seriously be asking him to leave Louis while he's like this. Can she? 

Her soft, yet insisting gaze towards Harry still and her outstretched hand waiting let him know it is no joke. Hesitantly Harry takes it and is lead outside of the room. Harry looks back at Louis,who has a bewildered look in his eyes coupled with a side of confusion. 

"Sweetie," Mrs. Dean speaks cautiously. Harry has no doubt she sees him as though he were a dormant land mine ready to blow into a million pieces of distress and confusion at the next innocent bystander that strolls along, and he's not sure she's wrong. "Wait here while I get Dr.Henson, gather up your thoughts. I shan't be long".

He watches Mrs. Dean walk away and round the corner of the dimly lit corridor, leaving him in front of Louis' room to his wondering thoughts. Harry knows Mrs. Dean advised him to get himself together, but leaving him alone to himself only left his mind stressful. 

Harry stares blankly at Louis’ hospital room door, depressed over not only what just happened but shocked speechless. He couldn't have meant it. They were in love. They knew each other better than they knew themselves. Louis wouldn't intentionally speak to Harry that way. He'll be back to normal when Harry sees him again, that way he can vigorously apologise for the crash, for the fight, and for the kiss. Oh the kiss. Louis clearly didn't want Harry to kiss him. He should've known. Harry is going to apologise for the kiss and for every uncomfortable feeling it caused Louis. He never meant to make him uncomfortable. His mom raised him better than that.

"Mr. Styles?" A strong, yet cautious hand on his shoulder shook him away from his self-pity and worry. Dr.nHenson, an Indian woman in her early thirties with silky black hair tied up professionally stood before him. She is much shorter than him, causing him to look down at her when she speaks to him. "You're Mr. Tomlinson's emergency contact, do you know if he has any family here or if they will be coming?"

"Um- no, sorry," he says a bit dazed, still a little trapped in his thoughts. "His family's stuck in Doncaster 'cause of bad weather."

"I hear your first encounter with Mr. Tomlinson didn't go very well. Do you happen to know if anything could've caused him to react in such way?"

Harry blushed, "I- Um- I think it was cause I kissed him after he woke up and he- Um didn't- He kinda didn't seem to recognise me, so- you know, it would probably be a little weird to, since he didn't seem to recognise me, be kissed by me," he managed to ramble, unsure.

A frowned crosses the doctor's face, quicklyreplaced by a neutral expression. 

"Right. I need to ask Mr. Tomlinson some questions and do some quick examinations. Would you like to wait downstairs in the lobby during this or would you like to come inside with me?"

"I'll go inside," Harry was determined; he couldn't leave Louis alone like this. He took the door and held it open for Dr. Henson, and stepped inside after her. Louis was still sitting upright on his bed, looking up at the plain wall. He turned to look at them, and a look of surprise crossed his face when he met Harry's eyes.

Dr. Henson introduces herself to Louis and quickly moves over to the read the machines. Harry,meanwhile, struggles with whether he should talk or stay quiet - if he would be breaking her concentration and causing her to misread something or do something wrong. He doesn't actually believe that, but he's telling himself that until he can find the right words to say to Louis. He doesn't say anything as she goes around checking the things attached to Louis, sometimes letting out small hums of approval.

"Hey, Lou," Harry says cautiously as Dr. Henson goes to examine Louis' body. As she pokes and prods at Louis head area Harry says, "Sorry about earlier." He only receives a small sound of acknowledgment from Louis. 

Sorry about earlier? Harry thinks, is that the best you can do? Gosh.

Louis breaks eye contact and looks down at his hands, refusing to look at Harry. An awkward silence develops between the two. 

"Alright Louis, I'm going to ask you some questions and you're going to have to answer as truthfully as you can," Dr.Henson says after finishing examining Louis. "Ready?"

"Don't really have a choice there, have I?" Louis asked rhetorically in attempt to hide how anxious he feels. Harry couldn't even begin to imagine what was going on in Louis’ head right now. 

"Would you like Mr. Styles to stay?" Dr. Henson asked unexpectedly.

Harry had forgotten Louis might not want him here, especially not after how he was greeted. He probably wouldn't want him anywhere near him. God, he's been so careless. If he was Louis, he'd not want himself in the room either.

"He can stay," Louis says unwavering, surprising not only Harry, but Dr. Henson as well if the way her eyebrows rose are any indication.

"Very well, please take a seat sir," Dr. Henson gestures for Harry to take one of the two seats in the room and takes the other one for herself. 

"Shall we begin?" She receives hesitant nod from Louis.

"What is your name?"

"Louis William Tomlinson," he affirms.

"Birth name please sir?"

"Uh- Louis Troy Austin" he says self-consciously. He's never liked his birth name, or what it represents. Harry wishes he could comfort him and tell him everything is fine as he sees him begin to fidget with a frown on his face.

"When were you born?"

"December twenty-fourth, 1991."

"Where do you live?"

"Doncaster," he says and Harry stares at him briefly, grief clearly smeared upon his face, before transferring his attention to his much more interesting fingernails. They weren't really that interesting, but he needed to distract himself with something, anything. They have been living in a house together in London for three years now. He can't have forgotten that.

"Where are you now? City and building, please."

"Can't really tell by the inside of the building where I am, but I'll guess Doncaster? And I know I'm in a hospital."

"When were you admitted into this hospital?"

"Um- a few days ago? Maybe Juneish, 2010."

And with that, the last remaining hope Harry had left that Louis had any idea who he was is gone. They met December that year. They fell in love December that year. They made promises to each other of forever and always that year. If Louis really thinks its June 2010, he can't possibly know who Harry could be.

"What is the first event you can remember after the injury?"

"Waking up from a coma to meet a crying... Um, This man?" His pause spoke volumes and the continuation completed it with a metaphorical punch in the gut. If Harry were standing, he would've fallen to his knees in defeat

"Harry," he said with great affliction. "My name is Harry." He stumbled over his words. Louis looked to him with a frown on his face

"Right, um- Can you describe the last event you can recall before the accident?" Dr. Henson says as though Harry wasn't dying with every one of Louis' answers, which she probably didn't seem to notice. If she did, she was probably being polite and leaving him to his own problem.

"Um-" Louis hesitates, thinking hard. "I- um, I don't know".

"Try."

"Um- Maybe, getting a new soccer ball at Toys 'R Us with the twins?" Louis says unsure.

"Could you tell me todays date, please?"

"June... twenty-second? 2010."

"Alright, we're done here," she says, standing up and tucking her clipboard under her arm. "Louis, it seems you have traumatic amnesia caused by the car accident you and this man were in. You have a swelling in your head very close to the hippocampus, which is the place in your brain that creates and stores memories. Luckily the swelling isn't major and has been reducing itself naturally, so there will be no need for surgery. In fact, you've been stable since your third day here. The amnesia was expected but not assured. Apart from that, everything has been going swimmingly. You could leave as soon as today!"

Amnesia! Louis has amnesia. No wonder he can't remember anything. Harry had his suspicions,but he would have never guessed amnesia. Those things only happen in movies or books. Yet, here he is with his deepest love, who can't recall a single memory of him.

"Doctor," Louis says as she finishes speaking. "I'm missing a few things, you know, in my head," he speaks shyly, "but I must ask, will I ever regain my memory?"

She sighs, "Once the swelling reduces enough, which it almost has, you should get your memories back. But," she pauses, "there is a chance that you might never fully recover all of your memories, though most do eventually. Now, I recommend you stay with someone you trust who knows of your situation. If you feel any nausea, dizziness or headaches contact us immediately," she writes something down on her clipboard. "I'm writing you a prescription; you can get it at the front desk. There they will tell you the daily dosage of it." She tears off the prescription and hands it to Harry.

"Mr. Styles, to help him remember, surround him with things he's familiar with. Foods, places, films, smells, anything that Louis could recognise." She turns to Louis, "A nurse will come to disconnect you from the machines shortly. You can sign yourself out at the front desk, Mr.Tomlinson".

Dr. Henson left the room, closing the door behind her. She also took with her the easiness that radiated off her and the excuse to avoid directly talking to one another. Now, there is an awkward tension so thick it couldn't be cut with a knife. It was as though they were playing a game of chicken which one of them will speak first and break the silence.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable when I kissed you," Harry blurted. "That's what I meant earlier."

"That's what I thought. Not a big deal. It was a good kiss, seven out of ten," he shrugged, nonchalant.

"Seven?!" Harry squawked in indignation. "I've never been rated below an eight".

"Well, let me be the first to say you were a bit sloppy," he teased comfortably, and it almost felt as though Louis actually knew who he was to Harry. 

"I guess I got excited, seeing my boyfriend wake up from a coma and all," he says, breaking the flow of the conversation. He stands and walks to Louis' bed. He sighs, sitting down by Louis' feet. 

"How long have we been together?" Louis asks timidly. Harry isn't sure Louis actually wants to hear the answer to that question.

Harry hesitates, "Nearly five years."

"Jesus Christ!" Louis half-yells. "What have I forgotten?!"

"The best years of my life," Harry says truthfully and freezes as he realises what he said. Apparently being in shock causes you to lose any kind of mouth filter.

"You're a sap, mate," Louis laughs with no sign of mockery, only a bit of amusement and a little wonderment.

"Thanks," he responds prideful. "Um- Do you want to know what the actual date is?"

"I don't know," he confesses. "I don't know if I want to know how much I'm missing."

"Would you rather find out from a newspaper?" Louis shakes his head no. "It's August fifth, 2015," Harry looks down his fingers on his lap in a poor attempt at blocking Louis’ response. He doesn't want to meet his eyes, doesn't want to see his reaction. All he hears is a quiet, frustrated sigh.

"So, the past five years," he says heavily, "I guess they haven't happened".

"No," Harry says abruptly, looking up at Louis. "The past five years have most definitely happened".

"Not to me..." he trails off.

"Look, Louis," Harry takes Louis hand and blushes with embarrassment when Louis pulls his own away. "Dr. Henson said that there are ways to trigger your memory. I, for one, will try everything I can to do so. You will get every single day of those years back."

"Thanks Harry," he says. "But if I may ask where will I be staying because, well, I don't actually know you, and you know what they say about strangers…"

Harry does know what people say about strangers. Though he can't help but think that he isn't a stranger. Or he shouldn't be - not to Louis at least.

"You're staying at our house. Jay wasn't able to drive over from Doncaster because of bad weather."

"Oh, alright. I have one more question, though." Harry nods encouraging it. "If I'm not in Doncaster, where am I?"

"London".

"Shit, really? Sick."

-

"You live here?" Louis says, eyes wide in awe. "It's very homey".

They are standing outside their front door. It was decorated with the numbers 1 1 8 and a sign nailed to it with the words Home Sweet Home written in cursive. The sign had their hand prints on it, each in each other's eye colours; Harry's in blue and Louis' in green. Niall says that the sign will give him cavities, especially after Louis told him that the reason there's so much blank space on it is for all the future little hand prints that will join theirs. 

"Yeah, we live here," Harry corrected Louis, watching him intently, "You pay rent for this place,too". 

He remembers when they chose this house three years ago. He remembers why this one. Harry wanted a house with in a safe neighbourhood with lots of kids and a decent sized yard. Louis hadn't wanted one too far from his job. So, of course they had to get a traditional three floored English house. Everyone was very supportive even though they weren't married.

Harry wriggles the key in the lock, waiting for the expected pop indicating the key has locked in place and is able to turn. It takes him longer than usual to open because Louis was just standingthere, cute, open eyes taking in anything and everything he sees as if it were the first time; well to him it may be. Finally, the door swings open to the empty house. It feels deserted, like it's been abandoned for months rather than days.

"Speaking of, how do I pay for it?"

"You're a co-host at BBC Radio on Tuesdays, Thursdays and weekends from six to eight"

"Really?" Louis reaches for the light switch in the dark, and turns on the hall light. "That's mad! How'd I manage that?" 

"I'm friends with your cohost, Nick Grimshaw. He was able to land you an interview." Harry locks the door behind him and they remove their shoes by the door.

"Sick..." 

"Um- I can sleep in the spare room tonight," Harry offers. Though, Harry could really use a night of cuddles and stolen kisses with Louis. 

"Yeah, um, please. Or I can take the spare bedroom, if you want. I don't want to make you feel like I'm invading your personal things or anything," he shies. Louis suddenly looks timid and awkward. Harry can't help but coo at him, which only makes Louis cross his arms and pout in indignation.

"It's all right, it's just as much your bed as it is mine," Harry reassures. "Up the stairs, first door you see." It feels weird giving Louis directions to a place they both should know.   
(Part 2)

"Sure- um. Good night Harry" Louis mutters out, heading upstairs.

"If you need anything, I'll be right across from you," Harry shouts as he loses sight of Louis. This feels odd, giving directions to their own room. A room they've shared for just about three years.It's just... weird.

He begins to walk upstairs, pulling his shirt over his head along the way. He's emotionally worn out and just needs a good night's sleep. Unfortunately, as soon as his head hits the pillow his mind becomes hyperaware of the fact Louis isn't with him. Every other thought begins with Louis. Harry groans and shuffles onto his back, maybe if he slept in a position Louis wouldn't be able to cuddle him anyways he could sleep... Nope. He is lacking Louis' presence and his body is rejecting it. It feels like missing a vital organ, an emptiness there he can't ignore. 

After a few more minutes of futile tossing and readjusting himself, Harry faces his insomnia with a heavy heart, turning over to get his phone from the nightstand. It reads 12:04 a.m. They arrived here at around nine, meaning he's gotten roughly three hours of no sleep. He rolls himself over, groaning and clumsily pushes himself up off the bed. He heads downstairs for the kitchen to make himself a cuppa, hopinh it'll help him relax enough to make him stay asleep. 

Downstairs in the kitchen Harry waits for the kettle to click off automatically, indicating the water has finished boiling. He watches the gurgling water and let's his mind wander. Oddly enough, now that he isn't in bed anymore, he feels ridiculously tired and groggy. All his restlessness is now calm. He yawns softly as the kettle silently clicks off. 

"Fuck!" 

Harry turns his head around to spot Louis, who is covering his face with both his hands. Harryfurrows his eyebrows in confusion. 

"Oh! I'm- Shit! I'm sorry," Louis complains a slight blush peeking out from under his hands.

And oh, OH. Harry hadn't even realised he was starkers. He'd never broken out of the habit and hadn't had a need to; well not until now. He searches for something to cover up. Oven-mitts?Cookie jar? Cat? Harry goes for the cookie jar, mostly because little Royal has already experienced enough traumatic accidents involving Harry's nudity, no need to give the catanymore close-ups to the danger zone.

"I'm decent?" Harry tries for convincing and misses by about a mile. He is unsure as to how decent Louis considers a cookie jar over his bits. God! He looks like the beginning to a bad porno. 

Louis parts his fingers without fully removing his hands from his face and eyes Harry. 

"You should reconsider your idea of decency," Louis says as he lowers his hands and lets them easily slip into his jogger pockets. Harry lets out a bark of laughter, one he's never been able to control around Louis, and covers his grin with a hand. 

Harry smirks smugly. Louis is shamelessly ogling Harry's body, eyes fixed on his hip tattoos, seeming to be forcing his gaze to stay above the waist line. "What are you doing up, anyways?" Louis swallows.

"I couldn't sleep. Came down for a cuppa," Harry tells. "You want some? 'Think I've got enough for two".

"Sure." 

Harry begins to turn around, but before he does Louis quickly adds, "Oh! Here," and begins to strip off the jogging bottoms he's been sporting. Caught off guard, Harry stares at the familiar action. 

"I don't think you can make tea with your hands occupied," Louis says as he tosses his joggers at Harry, leaving Louis in only his boxers and t-shirt.

Harry isn't exactly shy about his body, especially not around Louis. So he doesn't question his actions until after Louis lets out a shocked squeak Harry knows he'd deny if confronted about. Harry puts the cookie jar back in its place and slips on the joggers one leg at a time. He turns around in time to catch Louis eyeing him. When he looks up, Harry sends him a wink and receives a sheepish look and a blush in return.

"No sugar, no cream, Yorkshire?" Harry says. Apparently that catches Louis by surprise as he affirms Harry’s question. 

"You've changed a lot these past five years, but your tea taste is still the same," Harry goes to the mug cupboard and gets a beach-themed mug and a banana mug.

"And what's your name?" He hears Louis voice rise an octave as he coos. He assumes Louis' finally noticed Royal. "Aren't you the cutest?"

"You might want to bring that down to an alto, she's not a dog. Prefers calmer tones," Harry corrects Louis before he has to patch up anymore kitty scratches. He remembers when Royal first got here and Liam did the same as Louis. He'd tried the whole petting and cooing thing, but he ended up with a scar below his elbow he continues to call his "battle scar" from a "vicious feline attack."

Louis coughs once to clear his throat, crouching down to pet Royal, "What's its name?" 

Harry turns to see Louis sitting cross-legged on the floor next to him, scratching behind Royal's ears.

"Royal," Harry states.

"S'that so?" He quirks a brow up at Harry before placing his attention back onto Royal. At his question, Harry has the decency to blush a bit, turning away to get the tea bags. 

"Seems a bit out there to lavish someone that already thinks their better than you with such a title," Louis says distractedly. 

"When we got Royal he appeared posh and above everyone. We chose that name because it is fitting. That's why, because we saw him act like royalty," he rambles, recalling the memory of how they got Royal. He remembers that he'd been attracted to Royal because the little kitty standing tall and proud in the kennel kinda reminded him of Louis and how he always makes himself bigger, both literally and figuratively, in every situation. 

"Cool," he says picking Royal up and placing her on his lap. "Though I take back what I said about Royal. He is just a big softy. Look at 'em." 

Harry smiles. 

"Yeah, that's how Royal appears at first; he's only like that after you get to know him." 

Much like you, Harry thinks. 

"Royal knows you," he finishes their cups with a single sugar cube for himself. 

"Oh, that's right," Louis frowns and Harry feels the urge to kiss it away like he normally would but instead just brings him his tea. "Thanks, Haz," he says sincerely, nickname slipping.

"Louis," Harry says, taking a seat next to him on the kitchen floor tiles, ignoring the perfectly good table across the room. "How are you feeling?" Harry strokes his index finger down Royal's neck and the cat seems to be enjoying himself with all the extra attention.

"I feel fine," Louis said. "No dizziness or headaches or nausea," he sighs and looks up at Harry.

"Insomnia is a symptom, you know, if you've been having problems sleeping," his eyes slid down to Louis' lips and back up to his eyes. Blue irises are locking with green and only now does he realise how close they are.

"It's not insomnia," he says doubtlessly. 

"Are you sure?" At this point Harry is just speaking for the sake of speaking, completely entranced by the way Louis is looking at him. Harry leans forward a bit; only a couple more centimetres and their lips would be touching. 

Unfortunately for him, Royal mewls loudly, calling for attention. This breaks their hypnotic state of allure and causing Louis to look down at the cat. Harry let out a cough and moved slightly away; a normal distance for people who weren't them. 

"So why're you up?"

"Um- I don't know. It's just- The bed felt empty with only myself in it, yah know?" 

And yes, Harry did know. During the time Louis was in a coma Harry felt an emptinessthroughout the entire house. It didn't feel like their home without Louis. From floor to ceiling, it was missing that homeliness.

"Yeah," Harry agrees as he blows and then sips on his tea. "My room currently feels like an empty mall, feels odd..." He's hoping to sound relatable. 

Harry knows he won't be sleeping without Louis by his side, accepted it since a while back. It's a codependency they share, not so much now that Louis doesn't recall ever sleeping in the same bed as him but still, seems Louis is also struggling.

"No, kitty! You can't have any," Louis pulls away his cup from Royal. Louis pulls an adorable scrunched up face Harry wishes he could frame. Royal paws at Louis thigh, whines for some tea.

"Want to finish up tea in the living room? We can watch something if you like."

"Depends, what are you thinking?" Louis places his mug besides him and picks Royal up off his lap. They stand up and groan, shaking away the pins and needles from their feet. 

"'M thinking Grease. 'S a classic and, um," he shies, "You like it, right?" Harry isn't sure anymore, it's like he's gone back in time to their first week together when they were just getting to know each other and discovering each other's likes and dislikes. Now that he already knows Louis better than he knows himself, he doesn't know how to use the information without scaring the boy away.

His insecurities are wiped away when Louis looks up at him with enthusiasm, a gleeful smile stretched across his features. 

Some familiar things ought to make him more comfortable, duh, Harry thinks, wanting the best for his Lou. 

"Yeah," Louis walks out through the kitchen door way. "I'd like that."

They walk into the lounge and Louis takes a seat on the couch and props his feet on the coffee table. Harry smiles, noticing the old habit and decides to ignore it. Harry heads to their movie collection box and quickly sifts through it for Grease. Spotting it, he hands it to Louis who's sporting a confused expression. 

"I don't know how to work the CD--"

"It's easy" he interrupts, "Press the power button, then the insert button, then play. I'm just going to get some blankets." He dashes upstairs, leaving Louis a bit stunned. 

Harr rummages through his blankets in the hall closet and he wonders if Louis has figured out their system yet. His thoughts are answered with the blaring sound of the pre-movie trailers, and it seems to be at top volume. He listens to the trailer of The Parent Trap now on Bluray waiting for Louis to turn it down. He finally does bring the volume down to an average. Harry heads back down with his two of their softest blankets.

"Jesus Christ," Louis exclaims and Harry can't resist a fond smile from taking over his face.

"Seems you've figured it out," he tease,s walking up behind Louis. He was pressing down on the volume button trying to lower it further.

"Har-old," he enunciates, the nickname warming Harry's chest. "I'd like to ask you if you are hard of hearing, because there is no reason the volume should've ever been that loud if you're not. If so, could you give me some tips for coping with hearing loss?"   
Louis brings his hand to his ear dramatically.

"Learn BSL, oh wait..." Harry smirks and tosses Louis one of the blankets and enjoys watching Louis sputter and struggle to remove it from his face. 

The rest of the night goes by swimmingly. They watch the movie, adding in some comments throughout it. Louis tells Harry of the time he played Danny in his school play, unaware he'd already told Harry before. Harry didn't mind - he loved seeing Louis tell his story with all the enthusiasm he did the first time. He's still very sensitive about the fact Louis doesn't remember any part of their relationship, but now, reliving Louis in the way he fell for him, he's beginning to appreciate and accept the Louis he's got.

Close to the ending of the movie, Harry noticed that they'd been gradually inching closer to each other to the point where their thighs were touching. Louis had started slipping in and out of sleep for a while now and finally let himself go, drooping his head onto Harry's bare shoulder and letting his eyes shut.

Harry shifts his body to get himself and Louis into a more comfortable position. He turns off the TV and lays himself out on the wide couch, groggily pulling a blanket over them. Louis curls into him and he brings a hand up to push back Louis' fringe away from his face. He listens to his adorable little snores and lets them slowly lull him into slumber.

-

The next morning, Harry wakes up alone on the couch, with no sign of Louis around. He yawns loudly and rubs at his eye. Still a bit too groggy to process anything, he heads upstairs to his bathroom, hoping a shower will wash away the fogginess he feels.

He exits the bathroom, towelling off his hair. A cool breeze on his damp legs urges him to look up. He knows exactly where it's coming from from the countless times Louis forgets to close the door to the roof. At first they were a bit concerned they didn't have an attic to store their things,but this is so much better. Instead of a story attack they have the perfect view to their special spot.

Harry climbs the stairs, heading for the roof with only his towel around his waist. He turns the corner and sees Louis. He is bent over the walls of the roof and looking out into the park. Louis looks so pretty with his unfocused eyes staring out over the park, a midday breeze blowing his hair way from his eyes.

"I think it's beautiful," Harry says, approaching Louis, who jumps and turns around with an angry glare. Harry fails to hold in a light chuckle.

"Fucks sake," Louis groans, crossing his arms over his chest. "You don't sneak up on someone like that."

"Sorry," Harry chuckles. "Didn't mean to scare you." He steps forward, closer to Louis.

"You didn't scare me. You surprised me," Louis denies. 

"Sure." Harry says, disbelieving. 

"It is a nice view, though. Very calming," he turns back to look out at the park again. Harry walks over and leans over looking out at the park as well.

"You come smoke up here all the time. Especially when you're stressed or nervous," he recalls. "You came up here a lot during the weeks before the accident. It kind of led up to what happen".

"So. Lem' get this straight. I have tattoos and smoke," he turns to Harry. Harry smiles, nodding, 

"Proper badass I am. Do I own a motorcycle too".

"No, but I do," Louis raises his eyebrows in surprise. 

"Really? I didn't see it when we got here last night," Louis speculates.

"I keep it at my mums," Louis bursts into laughter. Harry knows it's a bit odd to have a motorcycle and leave it at your childhood home, but they don't have enough space for a car and a bike. She's got a roomy garage sale and it's convenient. 

"There isn't much space to keep it here with the car. But the car's been trashed, so I guess I could get it back."

"You're really something, Styles," Louis smiles at him. They stay like that for a moment, just taking in each other's presence, before Louis frowns. "Was I driving?" he asks warily.

"No," Harry says, voice small. "I was," he says pitifully. Louis gives him a sad smile and an idea suddenly tops into Harry's head. Everything about his facial expression showing excitement.

"Come on," Harry says, pushing himself away from the wall and takes Louis' hand, pulling him inside. Louis followed willingly.

"Where are we going?" Louis asks, following Harry as they begin to climb down the stairs.

"We're going to go get your memory back," Harry announces as they go down the last flight of stairs.

"Where's that?" 

"What fun would it be if I told you?" he says cheekily. They are on the first floor. Harry walks to the shoe rack and grabs a pair of shoes from it. He removes the keys from the key hook and takes a seat on the bench next to the door.

"I'm all for that," Louis says, sporting a fond smile. "But don't you think you should put on some trousers," Harry looks down, remembering all he's got on is his towel and is hal- naked. Harry bites his bottom lip sheepishly and then licks it suggestively when he sees Louis eyes fixed on them.

"Yeah, I'll go, um, change into something, um then," Harry says, rushing back upstairs. His towel begins to slip and he clutches at it, desperately trying to stop it from falling. He hears Louis' fond, yet slightly mocking laughter as he does.

(Part 3)

"It's a bit cold," Harry says, handing Louis his coat. Harry knows Louis is stubborn, thick-headed and thinks he'll be fine because 'it's not that cold.' He'll pretend he's not cold just to avoid admitting he was wrong. So when Louis denies his offer, Harry thinks, 'he's going to turn into an ice cube'.   
You sure?" He insists.

"Yeah, it's not too cold," Louis says while Harry gives him an unamused glance before he shakes his head in disapproval. 

Harry shrugs on the jacket he offered Louis over his plain white T-shirt. Surely Louis will be an icy pop by the time they get there, but it was his choice and Harry won't stop him. Of course, he will graciously offer his jacket when Louis is shivering and frozen.

"Ok... Can you check if the cab's here?" He prompts. 

Louis jaunts over to the window that looks out onto the road. "It's here!" he calls, boisterous and perky. 

He's balancing himself on a single leg and leaning towards the window to look outside. Louis claims he's no fan of surprises, but when it comes to them he's like a child opening Christmas presents; he never knows whether he'll like what it is but it still excites him. This Louis is mentally five years younger than the Louis Harry knows now, therefore this Louis is five times more mischievous and childish than the one he was two week ago. Louis skips over.

They quickly slip on their shoes, go outside and pile into the cab. They’re met with a grumpy looking man with red rimmed eyes who’s probably in his late forties. The cab has the heavy stench of mouldy leather and floors decorated with numerous types of foods and food wrappers that stuck to the souls of their shoes. The man, Garry, has a driver’s license displayed that looks suspiciously unlike him and Harry's pretty sure they've been sent the foulest, most repugnant cab in London. 

For a moment he contemplates just telling the cabby they've changed their minds and are going to stay at home, but he decides he wouldn't be rude and tells him the directions. "Horan Mechanics, Please."  
Though he felt as though he was about to barf, Harry schooled he's expression to show his natural charming and open aspects. Louis, on the other hand, was more expressive with his displeasure, with a frown on his face and an impressive ability to avoid touching anything he didn't need to touch; like the floor, or the door.

The cabby leaves their house and says, "I've got a third cousin who recommended that mechanic,nut me house is too far from it so I never got the chance to see it properly, maybe I'll give it a go soon though," he attempts small talk. He has distinctive northern accent that couples nicely with his deep voice and a nasal voice that demolishes any intimidating factors.

Harry exchanges pleasantries with Garry the cabby, later letting the conversation drop. Harry glances over at Louis, who throughout their exchange had been too preoccupied trying to avoid any contact with his surroundings to notice they had stopped talking. His hands are stuffed in between his thighs and his eyes are frantically looking around. He's got his feet hovering inches above the floor and Harry would laugh if he didn’t sympathise with him.

Harry leans over to whisper in his ear, "By the looks of things, we’re practically there." 

He’s trying to sooth Louis, and judging by the way his shoulders relax and he lets out a sigh, he did. It's nice to know even though Louis doesn't remember him, he can still affect him this greatly.

Garry stops the cab about four meters from the actual Mechanics Shop, but Harry still hands him the fifteen pounds and tells him to keep the spare change. Harry can feel his jeans unstick from the seat as he stands to leave. He hears Louis' own jeans do the same. 

"I'd like to say, I lived in a house full of children and babies once," Louis says nose scrunched up, "but I've never been in such a revolting car. It was absolutely rant." 

Louis wipes off whatever was on his jeans. Harry nods, agreeing with him. If anything Harry,praises Louis for keeping himself composed and not saying a single snarky comment during the ride. 

"Well," Harry says hopeful. "At least it can't get any wor--" Harry is cut off by Louis' hands over his mouth.

"Don't say it," he warns. "Don't you jinx it."

As if on cue, a clap of thunder grumbles and shakes the ground before it starts raining. Louis looks at him with an open mouth and unbelieving eyes. This prompts a giggle from Harry. It isn't raining hard, yet it's heavy enough to dampen their shirts and hair instantly. Harry takes Louis' hand and runs inside Horan Mechanics before the drizzle became a pour. 

Inside, Louis takes his hand from Harry's to cross his arms and frown. He's wearing a slightly see[through Marvel T-shirt and thanks to its wetness, Harry can't keep his gaze from lingering on fabric sticking to Louis' skin. It's not drenched, but it's. He's glaring up at Harry and shivering,but Harry can only think Louis kind of fits the description of a chihuahua; shaking, small and fierce.

"What?" Harry asks rhetorically. "You can't possibly blame me! It's London!" That brought a small smile to Louis face. 

No matter how cute Louis looks, all mad and cold, Harry is a gentleman and will not let his sweetheart suffer. He shrugs off the jacket and drapes it on Louis' shoulders. Harry sees how small he looks in his jacket and admires their size different.

"Thanks. So," Louis begins as he looks around. 

There are grease mechanics repairing cars, using tools and doing other things mechanics do. Harry is clueless with anything that has to do with fixing cars. He's more of a burden if he tries to help. Whatever, he'd rather stay back and watch his man fix things and flex his biceps. 

"Why are we in a car mechanic’s shop?" Louis asks, charmed.

"We're here to check up on our car," Harry says, searching for it. He turns to look at Louis and he grins, "With the added bonus of getting your memories back." 

Harry pauses for a moment, worrying - does he want Louis to remember everything, exactly?No. In fact, he'd rather forget everything involving the crash, including the cause of it. After what happened, he isn't sure he wants Louis to remember what he did.

"Huh?"

"I figured if I got you in the same place, the one you were in before you lost your memories, you would get a familiar feeling or something and get them back," he bows his head sheepishly. 

"Tommo!" He hears the excited Irish voice of his friend call out from behind them. Harry mentally scolds himself. With everything happening so quickly he'd forgotten to inform his friends about Louis' condition. He turns to try stop Niall, but when he sees his glowing face spewing joy and happiness he can't bring himself to take it away.

Niall comes over with a bounce in his step and a smile on his face, like he always does. His shirt and jeans are covered in oil spots and his hair has been let down over his eyes. He looks like rainbows have decided to come out of the world’s arse - and with good reason, too. 

Louis wore a confused frown on his face. Never the less he says, "Hello! You Blonde person, you!" with just as much enthusiasm as Niall, yet a bit of hesitation

Niall envelops Louis in a hug the moment he reaches them and Harry can see Louis stiffen.

"Ver' funny Lou. I didn' know you were out the coma! How are yah?" 

To anyone who doesn't know Niall, they would think he is being his regular cheery self but then he shuts his eyes tightly, and squishes Louis harder than he should, and Harry can tell he's been worried.

"I'm, uh, doing good. Yourself?" Louis pats Niall's back awkwardly.

"I've been great," Niall says letting go of Louis. 

"Niall?" Harry says to get his attention. 

"Hazza! Why didn' you tell he was awake?" Niall goes to run his hands through his hair, but then realises his hands are greasy and grabs a piece of cloth hanging from his back pocket to wipethem. Under the cheerful façade, Harry could see genuine hurt cross Niall's features, and damn it! He can't handle an unhappy Niall. It's the worst feeling in the world when you see him upset.

"'M sorry, I was going to tell you. He actually woke up yesterday and I forgot to call," Harrysays. 

He takes in a deep breath and says, "Um, Niall... Louis woke up with amnesia, and he, kindacan't remember anything since five years ago."

Confusion, then understanding crosses Niall's face. Niall steps back, shaking his head as if to clear it. His eyes land on Louis and frowns, "So, yah can't remember me?"

"No," Louis answers apologetic.

A pained look takes over Niall's features before quickly being replaced by a neutral expression. Harry sees his hurt under the neutrality. Niall steps forward and sticks out his hand, he lets out a breath. "'M Niall," he smiles. "And 'm not really a blonde."

Louis smiles back gratefully. "Nice to meet yah, but I don't think I can trust you now. I feel lied to," he says mock hurt. "What's next? You're not really Irish?" 

Niall laughs openly and lets go of their hands.

"Ni," Harry says, remembering why they were there. "We were wondering if we could sit in the car. See if it triggers Louis memories or something."

Niall smiles wider, hopeful, "Absolutely! Li's on it right now, though. “Whatev'r, he won't mind," he turns to Louis and takes him by the shoulders. "'Cause yah woke up from yer coma."

"Thanks," Harry says, knowing how Liam gets when he's working. Even if it's Niall's place,Liam will kindly ask him to leave if he's distracting or delaying him from his task. Diligent champ, he is.

Niall takes them past a couple of cars and bikes being worked on by people with tool belts and oily clothes, much like Niall. They pass a Harley-Davidson Sportster Superlow and Harry is reminded of his own motorcycle back home. He imagines taking Louis on a bike ride again - it's been too long since he had.

They arrive to their partially wrecked Hyundai Sonata. Harry gasps quietly at the sight. The entire right side is smashed in and their front lights are shattered, but he's sure Niall and Liam have been repairing it since it first got there.

They find a pair of legs dressed in knee length jean shorts coupled with dark brown steal toed boots peeking out from under their car.

"He hasn't moved since the las' time I came here," Niall says, shaking his head before walking to the car. He leans down and says loudly, "Payno."

"Yes, Ni?" An exasperated Liam says from under the car.

"Guess what?" Niall glances up at them with a smile.

"Louis woke up, and got amnesia," he says all too cheerful and slightly pained. 

There's a pause before-- "What?!" Harry hears a clank that sounds a lot like Liam hitting his head. This is confirmed when Liam groans, "Ow, fuck!"

Liam rolls out from under the car, shirtless, rubbing where he surely hit his head. He glares up at Niall, who fell onto the floor from laughing. Liam swats at Niall, muttering a short, "Dickhead," under his breath but smiles, showing he's fine. Niall laughs harder.

"Hi, Li," Harry grins. "How you been?"

"Hi Haz, Bbeen great. Hey," he waves at Louis who sheepishly waves back. "What's this I hearabout Louis having amnesia?"

"Oh," Harry says as he looks down. "Yeah. Louis can't remember anything since five years ago."

"Shit, Haz. I'm so sorry. How've you been doing?" Liam's says, worry-stricken.

"I've been better."

 

Louis walks over to Liam and extends a hand for him to take. Liam plants his feet firmly on the floor and let's himself be pulled up by Louis. 

"Hi. I'm Louis," he says diffident. "But you know that."

"I do," he laughs humourlessly and frowns, putting his hands in his pockets. "What brings you here, then?" 

Niall doesn't put to mind why his friends would come to his workplace, which they never do, but Liam is more perceptive, though not nearly as much as Zayn.

Harry knows the look Liam is sporting. He's perturbed and isn't really getting a grasp on the idea Louis doesn't remember everything they’ve been through. Harry knows it's best to leave him to his own thought and not linger on the topic. 

Harry walks over to their car and inspects the damage done to it. It's hideous. The whole left side, where Louis was seated, was smashed in. Harry just thinks, How can Louis be alive? and Thank you for not taking him. Harry places his hand on the formerly smooth surface for the vehicle, now concave and rough.

"They want to sit in da car to see if it'll set off someting in Lou's head," Niall fills Liam in for Harry, whoisn't listening, half-entranced by the broken, black metal of the car.

"I'm working on it right now, but you can come ba-- Ow! What'd you do that for?!" Liam whines and Harry assumes Niall hit him. He looks back to see Liam clutching his shoulder and Niall giving him a pointed look. "I mean," Liam corrects himself. glaring at Niall. "I can go for a coffee with Niall and come back later."

"Take yer time," Niall walks off with Liam. "Yah speak the dumbest shit sometimes, at da wors' times, Payno," he teases, shaking his head in disapproval.

"You do your fair bit of shit talking, Horan," Liam counters, bringing Niall into a headlock and begins giving him a noogie. Harry shakes his head at their antics, smiling fondly. 

Louis walks up to Harry nervously. He thinks that Louis has never seemed as shy as he has the last two days. Louis is one of those few people who always seems to have a confident stance around everyone. Of course it came down when he was with Harry, but he was confident with everyone else Harry's seen him with. Seeing Louis being all shy and uncertain is worrying. 

"Shall we hop in then?" he says playfully, still timid, and Harry wonders what this must be like for him.

He murmurs a soft, "Yeah," and turns to open the car door behind him. He takes a hold of the handle and pulls, only managing to open the damaged door after the third tug. He holds the door open for Louis like a gentleman and fails to close the door properly after him like a prat. Harry walks around the car to the other side of the car. He piles into the car with ease due to his side being hardly disfigured.

Harry sits behind the wheel again, like before, and memories come flooding back. He tries to suppress the memories of that day from his mind, but they keep forcing themselves into his head. Why did he think this was a good idea again? Louis' words from that dreaded car ride boom in his head like thunder, 'Harry, what's wrong?'.

"Harry, what's wrong?... Harry?" He snaps out of his thoughts by Louis worried hand on his forearms. Harry notices he's gripping the steering wheel so tightly he's knuckles have gone white. He lets go of the wheel and feels the blood rush back to his fingers. 

"'M fine," he whispers. "And you, do you remember anything?" He composes himself and redirects his attention to Louis. Louis' sporting a worried expression and Harry just wants to wipe it away with kisses and cuddles. 

"I don't remember anything, sorry."

Harry's body kind of deflates a little at that. "You don't need to apologies for anything," Harry reassures, a bit disappointed. "I think the doctor said something about it takes some time for any memory to return."

They stay there sitting quietly with an uneasy tension in the air. Louis sighs. 

"You know," Louis starts and looks out the window distantly. "I have this feeling, this on-the-tip-of-my-tongue feelings, constantly. It's like I'm this close to remembering something," he holds his index finger and thumb millimetres apart, "but it's always out of grasp." Louis looks up at the ceiling of the car and closes his eyes before sighing heavy. He turns to Harry and says, "Maybe I'll get something if you tell me something about the car?"

Harry sucks in a breath and swears. "I can't," he whispers, "I can't."

Silence takes over again and Harry's thoughts run wild. He was the one driving. He was the one who picked the fight. He was the one who lost sight of the road. If only he had been calmer. If he had waited until they got to Louis' childhood home to confront Louis. If only he hadn't cried.

"'M sorry," Harry hiccups.

"It's alright, don't cry," Louis shushes. "You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to." Louis wipes away Harry's tears. Harry hadn't even noticed he was crying - again. 

Louis being so kind to him after what he did was what broke him, Harry thought. Him being so kind after Harry caused him to lose his memory indefinitely was too much for Harry to handle. Harry stares up at Louis with remorseful eyes and shakily said, "It was my fault."

He bares himself and tells Louis everything.

~

"Harry, what's wrong?" Louis says, finally tired of the silent treatment Harry's been giving him the entire ride to Louis' mom's house. They are about forty minutes into the ride and about two and a half hours away from their destination. He doesn't want to do this. Harry doesn't want to ever bring it up. "Why are you ignoring me?"

Harry's gripping hard at the wheel and his narrowed eyes are fixed on the road. Harry feels so angry and so betrayed he can't help but blurt, "What's his name?" He glances at Louis and sees the frustrated expression completely leave Louis face, replaced with a confused one.

"Huh?" Louis asks, feigning innocence.

How can Louis pretend he hasn't been caught already? How can he lie so blatantly to Harry's face? Then again, Harry doesn't know how long Louis' been lying to him. After all these years together, Harry can’t believe this is how he chooses to end it. Harry blinks angry tears that begin to blur his vision and feels his throat go dry. 

"What's the name of the bastard you've left me for?" Harry grits out painfully, letting a tear slip past his eyelids. His throat feels like he's gargled nails when he swallows. Harry can feel the sinking hole in his chest grow and it hurts. He imagines this is what it feels like to have someone take your heart and rip it out of your chest, breaking every rib bone in its way.

"Harry, What are you talking--"

"Don't lie to me!" Harry cries. Harry just wants Louis to tell him the truth. No more of his sneaking around. No more of his lies. No more of Harry waking up in the middle of the night to an empty bed. Only the truth.

"Just tell me the name of the man you sneak out with when you think I'm asleep! Tell me why he appears at our front door with flowers after midnight! Tell me why you've hug and kissed him every., Single. Time. I've seen you with him! Tell me why..." 

Harry’s voice turns into a whisper towards the end of the outburst. He's crying openly now, his hostile wall has crumbled and he's left feeling empty and cheated. Now that he's said it, he just wants to take it back. God! He doesn't want to know why he did it. 

"It's not what you think," Louis tries to explain, but Harry's can't hear him anymore, blinded by sadness and betrayal.

"The name," Harry insists, tears streaming down his wet cheeks. 

He doesn't even know why the name is so important to him anymore. Maybe if he puts a name to the face he'll feel something else. Maybe he won't feel as betrayed if there's a name. Maybe he'll calm down. Maybe he'll be less terrified. Of what? Louis? The bastard? Himself?

"Thomas! But Harry you've misunderstood--" Louis continues speaking, but all Harry can hear is white noise. There it is. The name.

Thomas. The man's got a name. No matter how much he insisted he wanted the name, he realizes now he really didn't want a name. Now what he's dreaded is confirmed. There is a guy and that guy has a name. He's an actual person Louis has decided to leave Harry for. He's Thomas and has been going out in the night with Louis, helping to keep it secret from him.

Harry shuts his eyes to try and dim the pain in his heart. He goes to wipe away the stream of tears when they hit a massive bump on the road. Harry can feel their car beginning to swerve. He goes to grab at the wheel, but their car is already about to hit the car beside them. Harry is only reacting and not over-thinking. The only thought in his mind is 'Oh Shit'. Harry turns the wheel as hard as he can to avoid hitting the other car and potentially killing himself and the other passengers. He completely loses control of the wheel and the car begins to turn violently into the trees.

He turns to look at Louis, who has a petrified look in his eyes. Harry struggles to take Louis hand, but manages. "Louis--" he begins, but is cut by their impact with a tree. Everything blackens for a moment and he has no idea what is happening, but the clarity strikes when he's met with a white airbag. It blocks his view from Louis. "Louis!" He shouts when he sees him. 

Louis head is laid bloody and still against the car window. There's a gash across his forehead spilling a concerning amount of blood down his face. The window is completely shattered and Louis' body is twisted in an uncomfortable looking position. Harry thinks he might cry when Louis chest rises and falls. In that moment ,he's never been more relieved to see something so mundane. 

"Louis," Harry shakes him. "Louis, please wake up!" No response.

~

"You wouldn't wake up, even when the medics arrived. You weren't in a coma yet, they said you were knocked out from the hit," Harry told an attentive Louis.

"You were taken away in a separate ambulance. Next thing I know, a doctor is telling me your airbag didn't go off. You didn't have any protection from the hit. Because of the immense amount of blood loss caused by the internal bleeding, and they had to put you in a medically induced coma," he finishes telling Louis everything. 

Harry had stopped sobbing a while back, but whenever another tear appeared Louis would wipe it away instantly. As he retold their tale he would stop every once in a while to apologise and beg for forgiveness, before continuing with damper cheeks than before. There were moments where he thought he should've just kept quiet, never said anything, but he's glad he finished in the end. They're still seated in the car, but they've been here so long their oxygen was strained. They didn't care. 

"Harry," Louis speaks for the first time in minutes. "I don't blame you," he says unwavering. 

He leans forward to hug Harry and Harry hugs him back tightly. "I don't know if this helps, but I hope I didn't actually cheat on you, 'cause I don't want to believe I lost IQ points throughout these five years." 

Harry smiles gratefully. Though their hug put them in a bit of an uncomfortable position, neither made any move to pull away. 

Louis gasps loudly and breaks away. He stares at Harry with awe and amazement. 

"What? What is it?" Harry asks, panicked.

"I remember!" He gasps. "It was like I've known the whole time, but I've only just realised!" he says happily. 

"Wait," Harry says smiling but still a little unbelieving. "Do you remember everything?" It's as though every bone in his body has decided to cross itself with another by the sheer amount of force Harry is hoping with.

"No," he frowns, "I only remember seeing the airbag hitting your face before I passed out," he speaks so excitedly about such a dark thing, yet Harry can't help but celebrate with him. 

"That's fantastic!" Harry exclaims. "I hoped you would get something back today" he shines.

"Kinda hoped for the same thing," Louis agrees. "Even if I can't remember anything before the event, it's grand."

"Oh well, I'm just so happy we've had a breakthrough." Harry smiles toothily and wide. He thinks he might be radiating happiness. 

"And it only took you practically reenacting the crash," Louis is looking at him like he loves him, and for a moment Harry can pretend that they are back to normal. Back to before the memory loss, the crash and Thomas - just him and Louis happily together.

They hear a tapping coming from Louis' window. They can't see clearly out the window because of how foggy it is. Harry can make out Liam's facial features. He is standing outside, looking inwards with a hand shielding his eyes as he tries to see in. Louis makes a 'move aside' gesturebefore struggling to open the door. He finally managed to open it with a little help from Liam. They were hit with a wave of fresh air and Harry had hardly noticed how low they really were running thin on oxygen.

"I had that," Louis pouts and Liam goes to ruffle his hair with a mischief look in his eyes. Louis immediately goes to fix it, groaning.

"S'much as I'd love for you to continue snogging, I'm sure you've got a perfectly capable room in your house," Liam grins at them knowingly. Harry remember how many times Liam has caught them snogging, and doing much worse, in a car, and he can't blame him for coming to those conclusions.

"We didn't-- We weren't snogging," Louis stutters, caught off guard.

Liam laughs. "It's amazing having the roles reversed," he tells Harry grinning. "No wonder he was always taking the piss." Liam extends his hand to Louis and pulls him out of the car. Harry swears Liam's almost as bad as Louis now, not nearly as easily abashed or bothered as he was when he was sixteen. In fact, there's a chance, though a small one, that Liam might be as bad as Louis used to be. "Karma's a bitch in every sense of the word, huh?"

"Stop messing with him, Li. He's fragile," Harry plays, getting out of the car and rounding it to be by Louis' side.

Louis scoffs, indignantly. "I'll have you know-" he begins but is interrupted by a loud horn blaring. He holds his waist and frowns at being cut off.

"Sorry!" Carl, the Scottish mechanic with the beer belly and ginger beard, calls out.

"Oh yeah!" Harry recalls, getting Louis and Liam's attention. "Louis remembered something! It's not much but, you know, it's something!"

"That's brilliant," Liam goes to hug Louis but freezes before they make contact and begins to pull away. Louis, surprisingly, hugs him instead after Liam pulls back. Liam smiles and hugs him back tightly.

"Can't. Breath. Liam," Louis chokes out. Liam loosens his hold before pulling back muttering a quick, ”sorry.”

"Actually, Li," Harry starts. "We've somewhere to be anyways."

"That so?" Louis asks and Harry smirks. He loves surprising him with new (old?) places!

"Yep," Harry pops the 'P', "Can we walk? It's not far and I won't mind the rain. I don't want to take my chances with the same cabby." 

He dramatically shivers, 'shaking away' the memory of the ride.

"You’re lucky it's stopped raining, then," Liam says offhandedly.

"Thanks, Li" Louis says and Harry sees Liam pull a squinty eyed smile at the nickname. Harry can't help feeling joy whenever his loved ones express happiness and contentment, so he grins a little.

"No problem."

(Part 4)

"We're going to go say goodbye to Niall before we're off," Harry says, going into hug Liam and tapping him on the back as he lets go. 

Louis and Harry wave farewell as they head towards Niall's workspace. "See yah lads night, yeah?" Harry calls out to Liam, remembering. 

"Wouldn't miss it!" Liam calls back before returning to his former commission.

They find Niall working on a motor, hands dark with grease and sweat collecting on his forehead. He has a concentrated look on his face, focused on the turning wires in his hand. 

"Headed back 'ome?" Niall says without looking up. 

Harry will never not be amazed at Niall's ability to detect when any of his friends are around. It's like a sixth sense.

"No," Harry smirks and Niall glances up at them before returning to his wires. "We're going somewhere special."

Niall stops working on the motor wires to give his full attention to Harry. He raises his brows expectantly, "Go on then."

"Sorry. Can't say," Harry shrugs, completely unapologetic. He smiles recalling the memories their next destination has gifted them.

"He wants me to be surprised," Louis rolls his eyes. When Louis looks away Harry quickly finger spelt 'S-K-A-T-E' to a quizzical Niall.

Niall looks confused for a moment, furrowing his eye brows and pursing his lips, before being enlightened. "Oh! That's where you're going!" Took him long enough.

"Bet you're glad I taught you the BSL alphabet, aren't you?" Harry laughs. 

"Have I missed something?" Louis questions.

"Nah. Nothing at all," Harry shakes his head. Louis narrows his eyes at him, suspicious. 

"Well," Harry says, clapping his hands together, changing the topic. "I believe we should get going."

Niall has been giggling to himself the entire time, never able to withhold information without being obvious he is doing so. Even when Harry had told Niall about his crush on Louis, he could not, for the love of God, be any less subtle, smirking at him knowingly and winking at him while giving him thumbs up when he left them alone together. Niall is ridiculously bad at keeping secrets, but boy does Harry love him.

With a hand on Louis’ lower back, Harry begins to guide him out. 

The loud Irishman calld out, "I think Z's Graffitiing today."

That's good. All the hospital visits had Harry so preoccupied and worried he forgot to check up on him. This way he gets to catch up with him.

"I'll say hi for you."

"Good lad!"

Cold, humid air assaults them as they turn out from Horan Mechanics. Wet concrete pavementwith built up puddles block their path and the busy London traffic zooms by them noisily. The chilly air wraps around Harry like an ice blanket and he starts shivering. He steps over a puddle with ease and helps Louis hop over.

"Are you cold?" Louis asks, concerned. "'Cause I can give you your jacket back." He goes to take it off, but Harry stops him.

"No," Harry stops him with a hand on his shoulder. "It's no problem."

They walk for a bit and Louis finds a rock to kick every other step. It bounces off the rocky pavement in random pattern. Harry watches the stone move in irregular patterns.

"What was that you said?" Louis kicks the stone again. "Y'now with Niall. BSS or something?You've mentioned it twice now."

"BSL?"

"That's it!" Louis accidentally kicks the rock onto the road.

"It's British Sign Language," Harry exhales wistfully. "We learnt it together."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Though we kinda learnt it so that we could have our own, kinda, secret language," he looks down at his feet bash fully. He admires the wings on a butterfly near the windowpane,flowers they pass and brushes away a lose strand of hair from his face.

"Teach me," Louis brushes his upper bicep with Harry's. "I'd like to learn some words."

"Yeah. Sure, um," he waits for a moment for Louis to look at him before signing the first thing that come to mind; You're wonderful. 

Louis bites button his bottom lip, looking down at the ground bashfully. A crack can be heard from how fast Louis snaps his head up. "Wait! I know what you said, well, signed," he says surprised and frowning, "or I think I do..."

"What do you think I signed?" Harry arches an eyebrow.

"You signed something about me being wonderful." Harry thinks sees Louis' eyes twinkle as they walk. He nods with a close lipped smile. 

"How did I know that?" 

Harry assumes he's asking himself but chooses to answer anyways. 

"Well it's a language, right. Maybe it's like that, you know, how some people go through total memory loss and still know how to speak a language they've know?" Harry offers as anexplanation.

"Maybe..." Louis contemplates. "Sign something else. I want to know if... well, if I know."

Harry rolls his eyes and shakes his head fondly and starts to sign.

"You're... Ridiculous... Hey!" Harry giggles and Louis softly shoves into Harry with his shoulder in protest. Harry can't help but feel a little bit accomplished. Once he gets Louis' attention he signs again, "But you're great... Aww," Louis coos.

"Why don't you try?" Harry urges.

"I don't know...," he smirks. Louis concentrates for a moment before his face lights of with a grin. Louis signs 'I like your dimples'. Harry snorts and then covers his mouth in embarrassment. 

"I know," Harry agrees, grinning widely to deepen them. 

Crinkled eyes fill with joy and laughter. Naturally, as Harry makes himself more dimply, Louis pokes one comfortably, as if it was the most regular thing for him to do. In realization, Louis straightens his back and keeps the hand that touched Harry's dimple by his side. 

"That was inappropriate..." Louis laughs nervously.

"I don't mind," Harry says compassionate.

"That so?" Louis cocks his head to a side.

"Absolutely." Louis pokes Harry three more times on the dimple. All the while, Harry giggles and continues to smile. 

"Know what?" Louis says a while after a comfortable silence. Harry waits for Louis to continue. 

"I've changed so much in five years," he sighs. "I'm taller! I'm a working man. I've got facial hair! When did that even come in?!"

"It was honestly just there one day."

"What I mean is, I'm not the same person, you know?" he sulks. "This life is nice and all but it's so hard to adapt or readapt to it."

"Well, think of it like this," Harry counsels. "Instead of thinking of it as adapting, with of it as re-adapting."

"Why's that?"

"Because this is already home, you just don't remember yet."

They continue their walk silently, Harry listening to the hum of the cars whizzing by and narrowly avoiding walking into people. Louis knocks into Harry’s side occasionally and Harry returns it playfully. He is enjoying himself, focusing on Louis and consumed by his calming presence.

When it's just them, aware of each other and content with their company, Harry is grateful. Grateful to have Louis beside him, smiling and playful instead on lying motionless, six feet under. He could cry, again, over this. He's so grateful he has Louis to make him feel complete again. He's so grateful.

"I know this place," Louis says when they arrive. "I used to come here." He looks around at the nearly deserted skate park, fluorescent lights given it a foggy feeling. "It's so different."

"Compared to when we met here, yeah it's pretty empty, yeah," Harry comments. 

When they met, this park was the one every skater went to. There would be twenty skaters daily at least. But then they opened one a couple blocks down with more space and ramps. It's better for the skaters. This skate park is rundown and old, it's hazardous. Now it's used as a legal tagging place for graffiti.

"It smells like weed, passion and fresh spray paint," Louis scrunches his nose. "It used to smell of rebellious teens, sweat and weed. Guess not much has changed."

Harry hears the recognisable spray of a street artist. He looks over to where the sound is coming from to find his friend. Zayn is ambidextrously spraying blue and green on the side half pipe next to another of his tags. He's got a half burnt out joint cigarette between his lips and is wearing a focused expression. 

"Yeah, that's Zayn," Harry nods toward Zayn, beginning to walk over. Louis follows warily. As they approach him, he notices Zayn is sporting a pair of headphones and makes sure he's in Zayn’s view. He makes sure Zayn has seen them beside him and waits for him to take of the headphones. 

Zayn puts his spray paint cans down and rests his headphones on his neck. 

"Hi, Harry," he mumbles around his cig.

When Zayn glances up and notices Louis, his jaw drops and his cigarette falls to the concrete floor. 

"And Louis? You're up!" he speaks cheerfully, smile reaching his ears. He pulls Louis into a hug and says, "I missed you, bro."

"Cool," Louis hugs him cautiously. Zayn pulls back with a worried expression. 

"What's up?" he asks. Harry can't help but wince every time this topic is brought up. It's easier to pretend it isn't an issue.

"He has amnesia." Harry informs him. "Can't remember anything since five years ago. Well he remembers the crash, but other than that, nada."

"But we knew each other," he whispers confusedly. 

"See. We do, but we don't," Louis tries to explain. "You know me but, well, I don't know you." 

Harry thinks Louis is trying to sound gentle but is ending up a little apathetic, and he winces with Zayn at the harsh truth.

"Man," Zayn turns away, defeated. 

Harry looks up at his work and takes it in. The purposeful 'Don't look around' is carefully lined with blue greens and golds on the wall. 

"Shit," Zayn looks back at Louis, "I'm sorry."

"'S cool," Louis says sincerely.

"What brings you here?" Zayn asks, picking up a red spray paint can. He adds red around his tag,making it stand out more. 

"We're trying to recreate an important event to try and get back his memories," Harry says observing Zayn add to his art. 

"Smart," Zayn glances at him approvingly and goes back to spraying. "What event would that be?" He asks perceptively.

"How we met." Harry can't help himself from smiling as he says so.

"Oh, the event." Zayn says grinning himself. "The fusion that starts the H'n'L sun. What started the Harry and Louis love hurricane on Jupiter. The Big Bang Larry."

"I see you've been reading up on your space science," Harry comments, half-amused.

"New hobby. Plus, when it comes to it, everyone admires what they can find in the sky." Harry nods, agreeing. 

"So," Zayn leans back to admire the finished product and smiles softly. "How were you planning on recreating your first encounter without a skateboard?"

Louis stepped to Zayn's tag, revering the wet colours patterned on the wall.

"Um," Harry thought. He didn't really plan all this. This is just all very spontaneous.

"I can help," Zayn gives them their full attention by turning his whole body towards them. "Where was it that you two met?"

"In here," Harry plays dumb. Zayn gives him an incredulous look. 

Harry rolls his eyes and says, "It was by the stairs." Harry gestures at the four steps high stairs that were only put there for skaters to jump over. 

They dawdle walking there, taking their sweet time. It isn't more than twenty steps away. Zayn is one for the comfortable silence and Harry is always happy to comply when he needs it, but Louis has always been louder and brighter than necessary. Harry assumes he's shy because Louis isn't used to being vulnerable and these people he just met know more about him than him. So, Harry just lets him adjust until he’s comfortable.

"What is the story of how we met?" Louis asks curiously, standing at the top of the stairs witHarry at the bottom. Zayn is standing beside Louis.

"Harry, step closer so that your toes are touching the first step," Zayn instructed.

"It's a cliche," Harry warns and Louis groans in disapproval. Harry laughs at his expression.

"Louis, step forwards bit, so that your toes are just past the last step," instructs Zayn and Louis does so. Harry and Louis are about three feet apart. 

"What even--" Louis tries, but is cut off by Zayn.

"Tell him what happened, Harry."

"I was in the skate park, appreciating the skateboarder’s talent and sipping on my afternoon tea."

"Bullshit, Harry. You came here for the fit ones and you know it," Zayn interrupts. Louis laughs a little.

Harry clears his throat, "Moving on... I was on my way out and right before I could step on the first step I heard a yelp and the next moment I was down on the ground, a fit boy with the most incredible blue eyes on top of me and my tea covering the both of us."

Louis laughs, but stares at him quizzically, "You're right, it's very cliche. But I think I have enough control over my board when I skate."

"Oh yeah!" Harry remembers, "One of your back wheels uncrowned and hit Pepper straight in the nose." He says smiling. "She's fine, though. Was a little thankful because she got a free nose job," Harry reassures. "We are now good friends."

"Well... That's..." Louis pauses thinking of a word.

"A happy accident?" Zayn provides. 

"That's it!" Louis snaps his fingers toward. "It's a happy accident."

Zayn hums in agreement. "Hey, Harry."

"Yeah?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes, Aladdin," Harry sarcastically and rolls his eyes playfully.

"Catch." Zayn nudges Louis enough so that he loses his balance and falls forward onto Harry. 

He hardly has any time to react before Louis falls into Harry. Reacting impulsively, he spreads his legs into a ready stance, but unfortunately Harry's legs have the stability of a baby giraffe's. His eyes lock with Louis' surprised and shocked ones, which surely mirrored his own.   
Louis is able to stall their inevitable fall for just a moment before he loses his footing and begins free-falling. He thinks, The bigger they are, the harder they fall. 

Harry sees everything in slow motion. He feels hands slowing their fall. For a moment he thinks it's an angel before clarity strikes and he reasons they belong to the source of his multiple heart attacks. Zayn breaks his fall by lower him at three quarters the speed he was descending. Luckily, no major injuries occurred.

He's completely ready to mouth off at Zayn before his attention is taken by Louis saying his name.

"Harry! Your number, I can remember it." 

"My number?"

"Like from the day we met," Louis says as though it is obvious. "I remember every digit." 

Louis recites the combination of numbers. 

"It's so clear in my head. I can picture it in your messy hand writing with that ridiculous smiley face in corner. And I remember you giving it to me."

"You found the smiley face endearing, don't deny it," Harry jokes, beaming. This is the first time Louis's said he remembers him directly. The sense of relief is overwhelming; Louis finally remembers something about Harry. He could kiss him! He almost does. 

Louis' face is inches away from his own. He goes from giddy to lustful in zero seconds. Louis' expression mimics Harry’s and the distance between their lips decreases. Harry doesn't know whose moving closer to the other, but he can feel Louis' breath on his lips and nothing else matters. He closes his eyes and tilts his head to help meet Louis' soft, sweaty lips. An obtrusive cough rips through the air and Harry freezes before their lips connect.

"Seems Louis' memories are very selective, huh?" He smirks, unabashed. 

Louis bolts upright, not intending to straddling Harry's waist. He simpers when is does.

"Yes, yes," Harry says dismisses him. "Perfect timing, Zayn..." He sends him a mildly annoyed look. 

"I'd say so," he says smugly. "Plus I helped, didn't I."

Harry helps Louis and himself onto their feet. He wipes the dust from his hands and bum.

"Yeah, by almost killing us."

"You're exaggerating. It was all deliberate. It was supposed to simulate the same feelings Louis felt when he fell into your open arms," he explains. 

"Yes, but how could you be sure Harry would've even caught me?" Louis doubts.

"Louis," Zayn takes Louis by the shoulders, serious. "I trust Harry with your life."

"You mean your life," Louis corrects, unsure.

"That too," he laughs.

They stay a while longer, aimlessly hanging around Zayn and occasionally paying attention to him tagging something on the stairs, now wearing a mask over his mouth to prevent the toxins from reaching his lungs. They let Zayn happily keep to his art and they kept each other company, chatting about something and everything. Before they know it, it’s six o'clock and the sun should start setting in around two hours.

"I'm heading home," Zayn snuffs out the cig he's been nursing. "Got something planned for the potential spouse."

"Na na na na na, c'mon," Harry sings the tune to Rihanna's S&M and laughs, catching sight of the black bandana he's been sporting on his wrist. Zayn smiles and flips him the bird, not denying Harry's implications. He begins to pack up his supplies. 

"Yeah, so?" Zayn says unperturbed. "Wanna join?" He chaffs.

"Nah. 'M busy," Harry dismisses and continues joking. "I think I'm free next Tuesday if the offer still stands." He winks dramatically.

"Maybe if you play your cards right," Zayn winks.

"I can't tell," Louis interrupts their banter, "if you're secretly serious or incredibly close friends."

"The latter," they say in unison. "Jinx!" Zayn continues.

"Fuck!" Harry swears. "Be gentle," he begs. Zayn walks over with his bag of materials. He intertwines his fingers into Harry's hair and tugs hard enough so that there's a small concentrated pain in that spot. "Ow," Harry soothes the sore spot. "We're going to need to find an alternative for you now that you're bald," Harry whines. "I vote ear tugging. Like we did with Liam."

"Done deal," Zayn complies. 

"You lot are bizarre in all the right ways," Louis shakes his head.

"Before I go, when I was tagging I remembered how and when you and Louis said your first I love you's, remember?" 

How could Harry forget?

"You could try there next," suggests Zayn

Harry smiles wide, "That's great!" 

He faces Louis and holds up a single finger giddily, "One last stop for today?" He pleads with his eyes.

"Can anyone say no to you?" Louis asks, smiling and shaking his head. Harry knows he's won this round.

"Nope," Zayn answers with a fond smile. "I can give you a ride there," he offers.

"Thanks, Zayn."

(Part 5)

Zayn drops them off by the entrance of the park in front of their house and says his farewells. He speeds off home to his exciting night plans. They walk into the part of the park that resembleswoods.

"You're not going to kill me, are you? Cause that what happens to people in city parks at night," Louis jokes looking around the empty park. 

The park was basically deserted. Apart from the odd late-day runners, they were alone. The wind is rustling the leaves on the trees, birds are chirping and the setting sun is painting the sky with fiery colours that fade into soft pinks. 

"Shush" Harry says half-heartedly, knowing well that will only prompt him to be louder. Louis' eyes crinkle as he laughs, smiling widely. 

"Can you help me find a wire? It's hanging off one of the bigger trunks."

Louis gives him an OK-but-this-is-odd look, but goes towards the nearest tree to his right and instantly finds it. "It's here," he calls for Harry. 

"Of course," Harry says pursing his lips. "You were the one to set it up." 

Harry traces the wire to a point where he finds a small box with a switch. He turns to Louis and says, "Let’s hope it's still got batteries." 

Harry switches the switch from off to on and the whole area around them lights up with Christmas lights. They twinkle in a pattern on the trees. It's captivating.

They stand across from each other. The wind begins to pick up, tussling around their hair and making Louis' styled hair look like he's been stuck in a hurricane. Harry thinks he looks adorable even as Louis is diligently trying to restyle it, letting out small aggravated groans as he does so.

"This is where you told me you were in love with me," Harry says after watching Louis struggle with his hair. He's smiling and is the literal definition of heart eyes. "You were quite romantic about it, too".

"Oh yeah?" Louis gives up trying to fix his hair and just swipes it back with a hand. "What'd I do?"

"You took all these Christmas lights and hung them up on the trees surrounding this area," Harry tells him, pointing up at the trees where the lights are hanging on the branches and limbs like they were that night. Louis looks up at them. 

"It's the city, so they were a good replacement for stars". 

"How did I even get up there?" Louis says, looking up at the rustling trees and the darkening sky,a smile still evident on his face, wide eyes full of wonderment.

"I don't know," Harry laughs. He pauses and smiles, "I was so confused that night. Zayn and Liam were being so secretive about bringing me to the park, but then I saw Niall playing his guitar and you next to him, in a tux with a red rose in your hands, singing to me," Harry starts humming. 

He takes Louis' hands and turns him to face him, pulling him close. Their eyes meet and everything seems to slow down. Louis looks angelic, a halo seeming to appear around him and Harry doesn't know what he's done to deserve such a beautiful soul in his presence.

"Wise men say," Harry sings, every inch of him urging him to get closer to Louis, "Only fools rush in. But..." He stops and steps forward so that their chests are touching and there is no longer any space between them. He presses their noses together. They are practically breathing in the same air, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes, personal space long forgotten.

"...I can't help falling in love with you," Louis sings and then laughs, "God was I cheesy." He places a hand on Harry's lower back possessively. Louis closes his eyes and smiles, rubbing their noses together, "Kiss me you fool". 

Harry leans down and puckers his lips. He closes his eyes, locking his hands behind Louis’ neck. Louis goes on his tippy-toes and connects their lips half-way. Their lips press against each other desperately, as though they might never kiss the other again. They hold each other tightly, but still feeling not nearly close enough. Harry's hands are cupping Louis' face and Louis' holding Harry's hips close to his own. They breathe in the other’s scent, savouring every bit of one another. 

Louis pulls away from their kiss, still touching foreheads, breath raspy. "I remember...." he gasps, "I remember everything. Every. Single. Thing." He leans up to kiss Harry again, Harry kissing back eagerly. Harry's whole body is warm with desire and love for Louis, his Louis. 

"Wait..." Oh no. Louis pushes his whole body away from Harry forcefully. "No! I'm mad at you."

"Wah?" Harry is still a bit shaken and processing what he's just been told. 

"You actually thought I was cheating!" Louis screeches, appalled. Harry thinks, 'from zero to a hundred in a millisecond'. The magic is broken and he's not prepared. 

"You weren't?" Harry asks.

"No!" Louis shouts. "You are an absolute arse! Harry Edward Styles!" He punctuated each word with a shove to Harry's chest. 

Harry knows Louis would never really hurt him; isn't hurting him now. He lets himself be shoved because it doesn't hurt and it soothes Louis’ anger. Harry knows he's doing no damage, Louis knows he's doing no damage, so they pretend.

"You can't deny what it looked like - the sneaking around when you thought I was asleep, the flowers--"

"I know what it must've looked like, but whenever there's something troubling you, just speak to me about it instead of letting paranoia take over!"

"I will," Harry promises. "I'm sorry," Harry says as he stares shamefully at his shoes.

Louis sympathises with Harry and takes him in his arms. "Everything will clear up soon. Trust me?" Harry is enveloped by Louis' warm presence and his feeling of home. 

"With my life," Harry says confidently.

"All you need to know is that I'm not cheating on you with Thomas and that he's actually helping me with something important that you can't know about yet," Louis explains. Harry feels comforted, yet extremely curious and confused, but is willing to move past that because he's got his Louis back.

"God," he groans. "I'm such an idiot."

"Maybe," Louis says neutrally. "But you’re my idiot."

"Sap."

"Goof."

Harry pulls back to look Louis in the eyes and say, "I love you."

"I love you, too. You stupid, wonderful, ridiculous, incredible idiot," Louis kisses Harry passionately and with so much love and affection he can't believe he ever questioned Louis' love for him.

~

{Two Weeks Later}

Throughout the past two weeks, Harry and Louis talked through most of the issues with Thomas, had enough make-up sex to last them for months and Harry returned to work because his sick days and vacation days were up. It's too bad, because he was saving them up for a vacation, but an emergency is more important to him.

Louis had driven them to his parent’s house. After the accident, they both decided Harry shouldn't drive for a while. At least Harry got to enjoy the scenery. Throughout their journey everything was cheerful and soft-going apart from Louis being a little more jittery then usual. All was swell.

They arrive in their partially damaged car that Niall and Liam managed to get running for this specific occasion. Bless them. Even though it still looks like it's been chewed up and spat out, to everyone’s surprise, it runs. Nevertheless, they are thankful they have such amazing friends that own a mechanics shop, and when their done with the car they'll return it to them to finish off.   
Louis doesn't knock before he enters his childhood home. "Hello?" He shouts urging a response. "We're here!"

"Louis!" Harry hears an excited squeal from the kitchen before Fizzy walks out from it. She opens her arms expectantly. Louis runs into Felicity's and hugs her tightly. "It's been much too long."

"Yes, it has." Louis sighs contentedly.

Harry doesn't want to interrupt their exchange, so he walks past them and into the kitchen. He wants to let them bond without him interfering. In the kitchen, he's pleasantly surprised to find his sister emptying a bag of crisps into a bowl. Gemma hasn't noticed Harry come into the kitchen her.

"Gems!" Harry goes to embrace Gemma in a hug. "You're here!"

She laughs, "Yeah. Surprise! Oh, and mom's here too." She breaks free from the hug to finish filling the bowl of crisps. 

"I've missed you!" 

Harry hugs Gemma from behind, stopping her from emptying the bag completely. 

"Me too, but I didn't miss your antics," she puts the bag down to tickle Harry from where she stood in front of him. Harry yelps with laughter when she does. He lets go of her and lets her finish with the crisps.

"Where is everyone?" Harry wonders out loud. As far as Harry knows, the house is mostly empty apart from the four for them.

"Outside," she shrugs and picks up the bowl of crisps. "Robin's hosting a barbecue."

"Nice," Harry aches for food after a long drive, and right now barbecue sounds heavenly. "I'm starved," he groans. 

Harry and Gemma walk together outside. The moment Harry steps a foot outside, he's astonished by the sight before him. He sees apple blossoms, white roses and yellow tulips. It's not just a couple, it's a ridiculous amount. They are on the chairs and tables and hanging off streamers. The back yard is basically overflowing with the amount of flowers there are. 

This could only have been done by Louis, he thinks. He’s so endeared.

"This," he whistles in awe, "is amazing."

"Better be," Louis says from behind him. "I've gone through enough for them."

"Louis!" Harry turns around to hug him. "This incredible," he sighs into Louis' neck. He pulled back without fully letting go of Louis. "But what's all this for?"

"It's for you," he smiles, blue eyes twinkling with joy. "This is what Thomas was doing for me. He knows a guy and was able to hook me up for half the price." 

Louis laughs and pulls away a bit. "And because I'm hopeless and he's works with a jewellerystore, he helped me with this," Louis pulls a small black box from his jacket. 

Harry gasps, covers his mouth with both hands and whispers, "I'm the biggest idiot in existence." 

He can't believe for a sec- How can this- Are my teeth- Harry's train of thought malfunctions.

Louis chuckles and goes down on a knee. 

"Well, would you be my idiot?" He says, slightly coy. "I know things have been a little rough lately, but Harry, you're the love of my life and this is long overdue. You're the reason I smile every day and without you I wouldn't be complete. You're everything to me and I want to spend the rest of our lives together. Everyone says we're practically married, but I'd love if we could be officially married. What do you say, Harry Edward Styles. Would you do me the honour of being my spouse?"

Harry's choking up and trying to hold back happy tears. Of course he wants to marry Louis. He nods his head vigorously, repeatedly chanting a chorus of “Yes”

"Yes. I'll be your idiot." He laughs and holds his hand in front of Louis so he can put on the ring. Louis takes it out of the box and slides the sliver ring on Harry's finger.

Harry isn't looking at the ring or paying attention to his surroundings. All he sees his Louis and all he wants to do is kiss him. So Harry gets down on his knees, too and kisses Louis firmly on his lips. No tongue, no intensity - just a sweet, yet passionate kiss. In that moment, it was only them, there in the back yard. They feel serendipity.


End file.
